Time's Scar
by joelcoxriley
Summary: After the death of Malefor, all seems to be at peace. But what if the revival of the world was a siren, awaking something much worse? In order to save the world and those he loves, Spyro must master the ultimate feat: Dragon Time.
1. Chapter 1

**I had this stuck in my head and had to write it out. Enjoy. Not sure when I'll update it. **

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_Once, in the very beginning of the dragon race, there was magic. This magic was so strong that it amassed together, and birthed the very first Dragon Elders, infused with all the elements that their descendants would contain. However, no element within the Dragon Elders' blood could be unlocked, so the Dragons of Old focused upon the power of Time. As they began to breed, the elements within their blood were passed down to their offspring, and were unlocked._

_Yet out of all their clutches, eight were vastly superior, and surpassed all their siblings in their elements. The Dragon Elders saw that their children were great, and guided their children as they came into contact with Humans, the petty creatures revering their eight children as Gods._

_Silvanox, the Dragon of Earth and Forest. It was he who was staunch, and wise, and vigilant in the defence of his worshippers, who were hard workers with the land and rock by which they farmed and mined. His altar was of the most precious gems and carved granite, which a sacred tree had bloomed around, and defended._

_Vivirdissal, the Dragon of Sea and Lake. Whimsical was he, and a lover of fine art and song as his women danced and showered him with pearls, and his men worked the very waters he claimed for fish and treasure. His altar was in a cave, half submerged with glittering earthen teeth, both up and down where Sirens sung his words of praise to the worthy._

_Clarusaer, the Dragon of Wind and Sky. Carefree he was, yet quick to spit and anger if one dampered his many joyous days of play. His worshipers played many musical instruments, and soared upon the gusts of his breaths, and relied heavily upon the wind from his wings to keep the dust at bay from their homes and farms among and dry and cracked ground. His altar was upon a mountain, shrouded with strong gales that seemed to whisper and sing of his glory, like the musical instruments his people played._

_Levunda, the Dragon of Shock and Storms. Terrible, yet nurturing was she, like a scornful mother. Her worshippers celebrated her glory by performing water and storm dances, playing loud drums and gongs with the rhythm to her bellows as she danced in the sky, giving life saving rain to those worthy, and flashing lightning to deter attackers from her people. Her altar was surrounded by trees, burnt and dead from her power. Yet from her rain, as if from her tears of sorrow, the trees would grow and bloom for those worthy of her good graces._

_Crystator, the Dragon of Cold and Ice. Cunning and callous was he as he ruled from his frigid peak. His land was cold and dry, and heat, there was no where to find. His people were hardy and strong, yet cunning and callous like their God, which he favored. They honored their God by building a temple of ice, his altar deep within the core of lost treasures and hidden fates._

_Atura, the Dragon of Ash and Fire. Passionate and beautiful was she, a lover of fertility and motherings, which her women had often asked in blessings for. Her worshipers were many a mother and father in a harsh land, one side forest, and other burned wood. Her altar was surrounded by cooled lava, obsidian and flawless rubies scattering her altar along with tokens of her people as prayer._

_Solaether, the Dragon of Light and Heaven. Gentle and peaceful this dragon was, a stunning beast made out of magic and light. His people were nothing more than mere travelers, living off the land, and always moving towards the setting sun. They would dance during the night for their Dragon God to return, and pray during the day, for the sun was his altar._

_Noctemor, the Dragon of Moon and Shadow. Wrathful and shadowed was he, with armor and scales as black as true darkness that haunts the soul. His people were savage and rash, raping, pillaging and killing, for they followed the moon, and the moon turned shades of blood in the night._

_The Dragon Elders did their best to to guide their children to peace, and while their children obeyed, their followers did not. Tensions built, and swelled, and soon the tribes had broken out into war, forcing their Dragon Masters to battle their own siblings. The rivers ran red with blood, the forests burned and died, the fires smoldered, the ice cracked and fell, the earth quaked and tumbled, the wind died down to nothing, and the rain ceased and thunder quieted. The Dragons of Old could only watch in terror as their once close children ripped each other apart, yet they could not help their offspring, for they lacked elements. Yet they did have something their offspring could not help but envy: Dragon Time._

_Solaether and Noctemor continued to battle, causing nothing but death and destruction in their wake that the Dragon Elders were desperate to stop. Thus, the Dragons of Old united, and together, fully unlocked Dragon Time, focused upon their quarrelsome children. In a deafening scream, time was ripped and scarred, throwing the two dragons into time, lost._

_The Dragon Elders, with all their strength and knowledge, faded from existence at the strain of their task, bursting into energy, spirits, as they watched over their remaining offspring. The Ancestors were unable to physically communicate with their children, and began to do so in dreams, guiding their descendants._

_However, time was heavily scarred by their desperate attempts to save the word, and had become corrupt. The scarring of time had twisted the humans, making them become even more savage creatures: Apes._

_The Ancestors saw the error in their ways, and one had offered to become the Chronicler, to guard time and prevent time from ever being scarred again, and only started writing down the events after and tear, leaving their offspring, and their fate, lost in time and legend._

_The scarring of time had also corrupted their children, infusing their children with multiple elements upon their parents' deaths. Soon, their offspring began to breed, birthing the dragons of Fire, Ice, Earth, Lightning, and other elements. Until Atura became gravid, and produced not a fire egg, but a purple shell._

_Atura, along with her siblings, disappeared into time as other dragons came into play, thousands of years before the discovery of the purple egg. The dragons were confused, for they had never seen a purple egg before. Until it hatched, and the dragon known as Malefor was born, and would leave a mark in the annals of history._

_The first Chronicler watched in horror as the Purple Dragon had not one element, but all eight. What was even more frightening, was that Malefor could unlock Dragon Time. It was impossible, and had grave consequences._

_Over a millennia of searching for their two dragons, they were never found, and seemed lost within time. With the death of Malefor to a new, younger purple dragon by the name of Spyro, it appeared that both dragons did not know the extent of their time powers. Even with the world falling apart, and cracking, the Chronicler could find no source of the two dragons. It appeared that all was now peaceful, and the world could finally recover._

_However, time is still scarred, and scars can be reopened._


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello! The opening belongs to the rightful owners of Chrono Cross, but I thought it fit. Enjoy!**

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_What was the start of all this?_

_When did the cogs of fate begin to turn?_

_Perhaps it is impossible to grasp that answer now,_

_From deep within the flow of time…._

_But, for a certainty, back then,_

_We loved so many, yet hated so much,_

_We hurt others and were hurt ourselves….._

_Yet even then, we ran like the wind,_

_Whilst our laughter echoed,_

_Under cerulean skies…._

A gentle breeze of warmth blew upon the rolling waves of the sea, rhythmic, and constant. As if the very ocean herself was singing a lullaby to the creatures within her womb, breathing softly whilst they slept, dreaming the dreams of true dreamers.

Gulls cried, gliding on the wind as their shadows seemed to match the very dragons that ruled the skies. The wind caressed the ferns and palms, as if rousing them from slumber in the early dawn. Small fish began to pool within the shallows, and crabs began to venture upon the heated sands, leaving a trail in their wake as they searched for food.

The scuttling of a crab had awakened a purple drake resting upon the sands, belly to sand while his wings were fully outstretched, sunbathing. Slowly, lazily, amethyst irises was exposed as the dragon awoke. Yawning, Spyro looked upon the crab, now raising his head as he watched the movements of the gentle creature scurry about.

Shifting position, Spyro rose to his feet, shaking the sand off his scales. Looking around, Spyro had noticed that Cynder was no where near their sleeping nest-which the pair had made out of soft sand-and had destroyed and rebuilt numerous times in play. Spyro stretched, feeling awakened by the sun and beckons of the sea and her children.

To Spyro, this was paradise. He and Cynder did not have to worry about being in danger, did not have to worry about a greater evil, did not have to worry about the end of the world….nothing. It felt good to have nothing on the mind-though it was something Spyro found strange, for his mind constantly tried to think of something he could do-should do, such as getting back to Warfang and informing the Guardians that he and Cynder were alive at Ignitus' behest.

Spyro paused in thought at the former Fire Guardian. Ignitus would tell him that he needed to do what was right-that he couldn't hide from the world and would need to take responsibility. Yet at the same time….Spyro was just a child, and even though he had accomplished many feats and even defeated Malefor, Spyro himself admitted that he never did anything on his own, nor on his own accord. He had always been told what to do, and the thought of arriving in Warfang and being hailed as a hero or dragon of importance-being offered positions of perhaps political stature gain terrified the young dragon. Spyro did not consider himself a leader, nor did he feel ready to take on any more responsibility. In truth, Spyro just wanted to relive his childhood as a normal dragon, and the non stop days of play and adventure he and Cynder have partaken made him remember that not all life was serious.

Spyro looked upon the gently rolling sea with a sigh. They were far away from The Valley of Avalar, and even farther from Warfang. They did not know where to go, so the pair just kept flying east, and came upon a land of water. At first, the pair did not know what to expect, for they had never seen the sea and it's sandy beaches, and even if they saw the land in passing, they paid no heed, for there was simply no time. Now, however, it appeared all the pair had was time, and it allowed them to observe the beauties of nature they had overlooked without much thought.

"Soon, Ignitus. Soon I will go back to Warfang, but not now. I just want more time." Spyro whispered softly, feeling the sun heat up upon his scales, as his the Fire Guardian's spirit was reassuring the young dragon he understood.

Spyro smiled, and looked upon the sandy terrain to see the smaller tracks of Cynder, which he easily followed towards the shallow water.

Cynder sat within the shallows, allowing the warm water to lap at her scales and clean her, eyes lightly shut. Cynder did not even move. Spyro approached, about to speak, but upon getting closer realized Cynder was so still that the native that lived within the shallows as pooled around her, feeding, resting and chasing each other. They completely ignored the black dragoness, as if she was not there-or as if she were one of them.

Spyro settled upon watching the black wyrm, smiling at the serenity. It was so strange, yet beautiful. Cynder was only ever truly at peace with nature, and her more gentle side under her cynical attitude showed in moments like this.

However, the fish were disturbed, and fled in start, Cynder's eyes snapping open, "Hey-now why did you go and scare them?"

"I didn't, Cynder. I was standing here the whole time. Something else must have scared them." Spyro suggested, Cynder shaking her head, remaining quiet, tail now sloshing in the waters.

"I've been thinking-" Spyro broke off, pausing as he saw the sand beneath his talons shift in move, feeling vibrations in the loose earth. Looking around, he noticed the sands were shifting, the palms were swaying frantically-as if on the verge of snapping. Cynder got up, the once gentle rhythm of the sea now sloshing and rippling franticly.

On instinct, the pair launched into the skies for safety, Spyro leaving a trail of sand, while Cynder, a trail of water and mist.

"What's going on?! An earthquake?!" Cynder asked, the natural rumble of the earth causing her to speak louder, Spyro looking down upon the shaking land and sea.

"I think so. Maybe the world isn't done pulling itself back together?!" Spyro asked, realizing that there have been tremors every so often, though none had been this strong. The pair were startled as the very ocean surged forth, swallowing the beach and hitting the numerous ferns and palms.

The pair barely had noticed the quakes ceased as the waves receded deep into the ocean, the water building and birthing a monstrous wave that towered over the land. The dragons panicked, and flew upon the gales of the rushing wind, the roar of the wave blocking out all other noise. The wave collapsed upon the land, like a maw closing shut as it created a deafening noise, swallowing the land several miles inland, destroying inland lands.

Spyro and Cynder flew over the floods, looking upon the force of nature with horror and awe.

"We have to help!" Spyro replied, readying himself only to have Cynder beckon him back.

"No, Spyro. We have to go to Warfang."

"What? Why? We have no time, Cynder! People could be down there needing our help!"

"We can't save everyone, Spyro. The area is too large. Look around. We need help. We need to go back." She replied, Spyro looking upon the watered land and sighed sadly, eyes sullen.

"Alright. I'm sure The Guardians can help any people that are here." Spyro replied, listening to reason as he and Cynder made their way towards the city. Now, the ocean seemed like a place of hostility, and not the haven it had seemed to them just moments before.


End file.
